


Tuesdays at 2

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-21
Updated: 2006-08-21
Packaged: 2019-01-19 15:10:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12412689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Hermione had started having tea with Narcissa on Tuesdays at 2 originally.





	Tuesdays at 2

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

**Tuesdays at 2  
By** unperfectwolf  
 **Archive:** let me know first, yes?  
 **Rated:** PGish  
 **Fandom, Pairing:** Harry Potter, Het: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger  
 **Summary:** Hermione had started having tea with Narcissa on Tuesdays at 2 originally.  
 **Disclaimer:** not mine, never was mine, never will be mine. all is jk rowling's.  
 **For:** 23viciousmitten, per her request in the dmhgficexchange. I don't know if I did it like you wanted. I didn't have any marriage in there, but it was a bit of a plot point. I don't do fluff really, but toning the angst down was a challenge. Thanks for that. Hope you like it! Original version can be found [here](http://community.livejournal.com/dmhgficexchange/150091.html).  
 **Beta:** Thanks to stereotype_vamp for the beta, all remaining errors are mine not hers.  
 **Word Count:** 3,347  
 **Authors Notes:** Things to include: "Hot weather, Narcissa (good or evil), and Hermione's parents meeting Draco. No Marriage. Not extraordinarily fluffy, or angsty." This kind of seems like it's going to become a series, but no promises. I think I might extrapolate on the other girls' relationships.

**TUESDAYS AT 2**

Hermione Granger blew a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, and stared at him, hands on her hips. "Draco Malfoy, I have tea with your Mum every Thursday. The least you could do is come to my parents' 40th anniversary with me."

Draco looked up from where he was standing in front of the window, eyeing her carefully. She was sweating, he could tell. A bead of sweat was forming on her brow and her upper lip looked moist. But then, so was he. He was standing in front of the window trying to convince a breeze to come in and cool them off.

He would have used a cooling charm to cool the flat down, but Hermione had insisted that they not, and after last time he was of a mind to agree with her. Because, unlike last time, he didn't want to end up cleaning vomit out of the carpeting, because no spell — or at least ones that didn't make Hermione violently ill again - he tried would get the smell out and he rather liked Hermione when she hadn't been puking everything she'd eaten or drank in the last 24 hours. He had to remember to keep tomatoes and anything tomato like out of sight as well, because they had the same effect. Hermione was convinced those particular spells, and tomatoes, smelled rancid.

"Hermione, love," he tried, stalling. He knew he'd have to meet her parents eventually, but he was trying to find a time they might murder not him. Like maybe right after the baby was born, because he'd heard from Blaise and Harry and Oliver that everyone was always excited when a baby was born, and people who'd normally never want to be anywhere near each other would hug and grin and be friendly for that day.

So he was trying to put it off two or three more months in the hope that, if the blasted heat would ever go away, everyone could sit and make nice as they waited for the baby.

His baby. Her baby. Their baby.

Hermione tapped her foot, though it was nearly a stomp, and Draco knew he was out of time to come up with an excuse.

"Love, really," he tried again, on principle. "I don't think they'll want me there, do you?"

Hermione froze for a second, her eyes narrowing. She swiped a hand across her forehead with a grimace before she returned her attention to him. "Really, Draco. I don't understand you sometimes. Why wouldn't they want you there?"

"Um…" he tried to think of a more gentle way to put his next sentence, one that wouldn't put him on the couch for the next week, and failed. It really was too hot to be trying to do this. "Because I'm the guy who knocked you up and hasn't proposed?"

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "I told you, I explained it to them. They understand. Now, come get ready with me and we'll head off up north to the cottage. It's cooler up there, I hear."

Somehow, Draco thought as he let her lead him into the bathroom to change and get ready to go, he rather doubted they understood and wondered if a hastily scribbled last will and testament on a napkin would suffice.

\----

Hermione had started having tea with Narcissa on Tuesdays at 2 originally, but they switched it because that's the day Ginny Wood and Pansy Potter met, and now that Hermione was expecting, they decided she needed to be included in their day of Mum Things. Hermione hadn't known what they did together on those days, and really she didn't now, but she was glad for the chance to have day with just them, and sometimes Luna Finnegan, Parvati Zabini, Padma Longbottom and Lavender Weasley. At least once a month they were all there, and those days were hectic and Hermione often returned with a headache from all the chatter, but she also returned full of gossip and later, once the headache had gone, she was always in a strangely good mood.

One Tuesday that they all made it, the first Tuesday in June if she remember correctly (which was actually the last Tuesday they had all met), Luna had announced she was pregnant again. Everyone had made happy noises that caused some passer-byes to wince, but the seven women had been excited. For Luna, for themselves, and for little MaryAnne as well, since she'd been asking for a little sister for the last two Christmases.

Ginny's announcement two months before had been met with a similar reaction, along side a round of ribbing about yet another one, because this would be her fourth child in only seven years.

Hermione's induction, however, had been met with a slightly different reaction at first. She'd felt all the eyes in the group drop to her hand, looking for the tell-tale ring. When didn't find it, she'd felt them all glance up sharply and rolled her eyes at the questions they were nearly sending her telepathically.

"No, there was no secret wedding, no we're not planning on one, and yes it's Draco's. Please don't ask about how we managed to muck up the pregnancy charm, it's not a pretty story, and doesn't put either of our intellects in a very good light."

Of course that comment had made them all titter nervously and after a nearly soft enough for Hermione not to hear but not quite, "Oh for fuck's sake, it's Hermione" from Ginny, the squealing commenced and Hermione was now one of them. Which was contestably a good thing, and better on some days than others.

So now she met Narcissa on Thursdays at 2. Narcissa and she had been having tea for several years before the Unfortunate Incident That Has Resulted In Good, as Draco and Hermione had taken to calling their complete failure of such a basic charm. They'd been relatively good at keeping the relationship quiet, just friends — mostly from their years at Hogwarts — knowing about them. But they'd known it couldn't last, and once Narcissa had found out that Draco was dating someone, and that someone wasn't a stuck up princess from the continent, but someone who could read and write legibly if it was before 4 am or after 9, she had floo'd over posthaste and introduced herself.

Hermione had been shocked at the person she was meeting. What she could vaguely remember of the woman from the Quidditch match so long ago was nothing like this woman here. Of course then, Lucius had still been alive and Voldemort was still an issue and it was still Important to act like a good little Death Eater's wife.

Narcissa had dragged her out for tea, to a little tea shop to which Hermione was soon to become a regular, and began asking her all sorts of questions, like what did she do for a living (researched ancient spells for the Brazilian, German and Portuguese ministries from an office in London), how long she had been seeing Draco (6 years, 5 months and 18 days), when they had met after the war (3 days after Harry had killed Voldemort), how old she was now (27, thank you, 17 days older than Draco), and what her favorite type of scone was (she didn't have one, she liked them all except anything with guava in it). Hermione apparently passed whatever test Narcissa was running, because she came back the following week, and nearly three years later she was still coming back.

Of all the people Hermione had to explain her reluctance to marry Draco, whom she loved dearly and was the father of her almost-ready-to-be-born child, Narcissa had been one of the few who got it instantly.

"Of course tying yourself to one seems silly. After all you children went through because of a bond between a maniac and a child, I wouldn't expect anything less."

Of course Hermione's reasons hadn't been those, exactly, but the principle was the same. She had seen the rate of marriage failure rising, and the tabloids that had a new break up story every day and decided, at age 18, that she wasn't getting married until she was retired, if ever.

And strangely, Draco had agreed with her.

She hadn't — nor had he — ever factored children into their relationship. In fact, she'd never really factored children into any relationship, or her life at all. Except as honorary nieces and nephews, the numbers of which climbed steadily every year. Having one, however, had never crossed her mind. Except now she was and she didn't quite know if she could handle that fact.

\----

Hermione had been right. It was much cooler at her parents' cottage. Both she and Draco breathed a sigh of relief as they appeared in the shade of a cool tree in the front yard, out of site from the house and the neighbors. A bit of quick wand work and the two of them didn't look as though they'd just ventured in from a sauna and then Hermione was leading Draco into the garden around back.

When they entered a glad cry went up from the people there. It was her parents and aunts and uncles and cousins, with various generations of children racing around. In a set of chairs near the back of the cottage two older women with white fluffy hair snored in the shade.

And they were all muggles.

Draco didn't know if he was ready for the experience, though he knew he didn't have much a choice. Hermione smiled at him as she grabbed his hand and led him over to her mother. After the two women had hugged and Hermione had greeted her father, she tugged Draco forward.

"Mum, Dad, this is Draco."

Draco didn't know that five words could scare you to death and change your life so drastically. Well, actually, he could think of another set of five words that had done that not very long ago, those being "Draco, I think I'm pregnant."

At the moments Draco didn't know which he thought had scared him the most, but from the various looks he was getting from the male members of her family, he was starting to think that these five were it.

Much to his relief Hermione's Mum was pulling him into a hug before her father could do the bodily harm that his look seemed to be implying that Draco was in for. "Draco! So nice to meet you, finally."

Draco mumbled a reply along the lines of "the pleasure's mine" and "yes, yes, so nice to meet you". He didn't know the proper response to Hermione Mum, having never actually been in this particular position before.

Hermione was beaming at him and he thought she hadn't looked lovelier, at least not in a long while. Her hand on her father's arm, griping in a way that Draco knew well, was letting him know she was keeping her father quiet in a way only women seemed capable of achieving.

After her Mum stepped back, Draco eyed her father. Then, deciding to be a man, he held out his hand. "It's good to finally meet you, Sir."

Her father narrowed his eyes, but shook his hand (if only because of the grip that Hermione had on his arm, reminding him, and the glare that his wife was sending him). He didn't say anything, but Draco hadn't expected him to greet him with a laugh and a pat on the back.

After all, he had knocked up his daughter.

\----

The conversation, which had happened on a Tuesday, went something like this.

"So it's confirmed, then?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes, at 2 this afternoon. Narcissa went with me."

"And it was when…" he stopped, cringing.

"Yes, it happened then." She was nodding again, cringing along with him.

"Not one of our better moments, was it?"

She smiled weakly at him. "No, I'd not say so."

He looked at her. She was pale — maybe from throwing up all morning, maybe from the news. "You alright, love?"

"I…" she looked at him a long moment. "I will be, I think. But promise me something?"

"I will if I can, you know that."

"Don't go buy a ring and ask me to marry you. I still feel the same."

A long pause. Finally, though, "Alright. I won't. But people are going to talk."

A snort. "Like they weren't before. At least this will give them new things to talk about."

A weak laugh, joined by the other.

\----

Two of her cousins cornered him when she went in to use the toilet. They were tall and scowling and Draco wondered if he should be fearing for his life.

"You don't deserve her, if you're not going to make an honest woman out of her."

Growling. They were growling, Draco decided. His first reaction was a flippant comment about her already being the most honest person he'd ever known, but he didn't think that would go over well, and he liked his face the way it was. So he settled on the truth. "She told me not to."

That caused them to pause in whatever they were getting ready to do — probably beat him to a bloody mess, Draco though darkly.

"She did what?" asked one of them.

"Asked me — no, well, told me — not to get a ring and ask her." He paused, just for a second. "I would have, you know."

The two stared at him for a long moment, Draco shifting nervously from foot to foot, wanting to pull his wand out of it's hiding spot but resisting. Neither of them went anywhere without their wands, because they weren't stupid — generally — and they'd lived through the second rise and fall of Voldemort. That would make anyone a little paranoid, and they were. Which they both admitted often enough to anyone who asked about the runes and charms on their doors and windows and vents. Their flat was second only to Harry and Pansy's in protection, anywhere in the world, most probably. In Great Britain for sure, though.

"So, you're saying…"

"She doesn't want to be married?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Yes…" How was she related to these two? She was so smart, and they were pitifully slow, really.

"But…" they couldn't get another word out before Hermione came upon them like a small whirlwind and rescued him, full of excuses of people to meet and things to do.

Draco gladly went to meet her Grandmother Rose and Great Aunt Mable, just happy that he had left that meeting in one piece.

\----

When Hermione was eight months and 17 days pregnant she went into labor. A bit early, but not enough to cause any worry, the midwife assured them. It took less than an hour for the hallway outside the small room at the local birthing ward to be filled with prominent people, like Headmistress of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall and Minister of Magic, Amelia Bones. Representatives from the Brazilian, German and Portuguese ministries were there, as well. So were heroes from the War Against Voldemort, like Harry Potter, Oliver Wood, Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Blaise Zabini and their wives, who were equally important in the war effort, Pansy Potter, Ginny Wood, Luna Finnegan, Parvati Zabini, Padma Longbottom and Lavender Weasley. Her parents and Narcissa were there too, the two women clutching each others hands as they waited.

Only Draco was allowed in the room, and as Hermione gripped his hand and bit her lip, he almost wished he didn't have to see her in such pain.

He could remember the last time he'd seen that look on her face. It was after Voldemort was dead, three days nearly exactly. She had been hunting Death Eaters and had managed to corner — and kill — his aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange. But in the process she'd managed to gather a shattered right leg and a snapped left arm.

He'd found her three hours after she'd fought his aunt. He had been tracking the mad woman for a long time — months, by now — trying to kill her for the death of his other aunt, Andromeda. The fact that Hermione had beat him there had upset him at the time, though that had been pushed from his mind quickly after seeing the state she was in.

So that he could lift her and get them to the nearest hospital camp — he knew the actual hospitals were fuller than full and wouldn't be able to treat her for hours, probably — he had to push the bone of her arm back through the skin and into place, just enough so that he didn't do too much harm to her in transport.

She hadn't made a sound, something that he didn't know if he could have done, and hadn't fainted. When they got to the camp, they tried to take her from his arms but she had shaken her head and managed to croak out "Just let him carry me."

When asked later, she wouldn't ever give a reason for asking that. She'd just shrug and say that "It felt right" or that "I didn't think they'd carry me with out hurting me" or "he was the one who rescued me." Draco never could make any real sense of her answers and had long given up ever getting her reasoning from her by the time the rest of the world had as well.

Once he'd gotten her settled onto a mat, the healers had nearly attacked her. He was surprised she, or he even, hadn't instinctively started firing off spells with the way that they managed to come out of nowhere, not even asking her name before they started in on her. Not, of course, that she needed introducing. Everyone knew who Hermione Granger was.

They'd fixed her up pretty well before giving her a bone growth-pain relief-muscle rebuilding-sleep cocktail that Draco knew must have tasted as foul as it smelled. None the less, she drank it down. Before it knocked her out, she'd lifted her good arm up and reached for Draco to come closer.

When he was kneeling next to the mat she was on, she'd grabbed his hand. Her eyes, even by then, had the look of someone who was on some hefty medication, but her speech hadn't been slurred. "Thank you, Draco." He had nearly started. He'd never heard her call him by his first name. "I knew you couldn't have been a traitor, not really."

He never found out what that statement meant either, as she fell asleep then and refused to ever talk about it later. Then, however, he had had to lie down next to her because she wouldn't let his hand go. The healers had woke him every hour as they checked on her, and one had tried to get him to move, but the death grip Hermione had on his hand had deterred him. He hadn't left her side the entire time she was there, and after she'd been released he'd gone back to her flat with her and he hadn't left since.

She had the same grip on him now, nearly nine years later. Draco didn't really like that she was in that much pain again, because then it had been enough for the healers to knock her out for nearly 24 hours.

The midwife must have seen the concern on his face, because she smiled at him and patted him on his pack. "She'd doing fine, dear. The baby should be here in no time at all."

Draco didn't know who had taught the lady to tell time, but no time at all was not six and a half hours in his book. But when the baby was finally born, Hermione was glowing and she seemed fine, if a little exhausted, and he relaxed. Glancing at the clock, he smiled. Athena Andromeda Malfoy-Granger was born at exactly 2 pm on the 1st of September 2009, which was a Tuesday.


End file.
